


Unexpected Callers

by LadyWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale does not have a good day, Crafty Crowley, Demons are rude, Friendship, Gabriel is oblivious, Gen, crafty aziraphale, sometimes Crowley and Aziraphale are smart when they need to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27795979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: Some unsavory company shows up at the bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley are going to have to be very cunning and wily to get out of this one.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Unexpected Callers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [29Pieces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/29Pieces/gifts).



> For 29Pieces! I hope you enjoy this one ^_^

Aziraphale quite perturbedly wrapped the book up. Then he very aggressively took the man's money, before extremely standoffishly watched the patron walk out of the door to the shop.

"Thank you," the unwanted customer called.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Aziraphale gritted out refraining from performing a miracle to do just that—well, he could hardly call it a miracle at that point, he supposed.

"The nerve of some people," he huffed, crossing back to the back of the store where he had left his half-finished tea, probably cold by now. "Thinking they can just waltz in here and buy whatever they want," he continued, forgetting that he did, in fact, own a book _shop_ and usually shops involved people buying things.

He found his cup of tea and it was, indeed, cold, causing the angel to huff even more.

He slumped down at his desk before the bell to the door rang _again_ and he eyed several other customers coming in.

"What is it, a holiday?" he demanded under his breath as he got up again and hurried out to the front of the shop in order to be as un-helpful as possible in the hopes that they wouldn't buy anything.

"Why, are you the shopkeeper?" one asked. "I was wondering if you had any collectible editions of Sir Walter Scott."

"Oh, don't know, probably would be other _there_ ," Aziraphale said, waving vaguely in a direction where there was decidedly _not_ any poetry at all, least of all Sir Walter Scott. Hopefully the lack of help would make the man go away.

That was when the bell rang _again._

"Really," Aziraphale hissed under his breath as he moved from out of the shelves to confront the new customers.

To find a _very_ odd group of people standing there.

One was a thin, dirty man in a dirtier trench coat who looked vaguely familiar to Aziraphale. The other was a smaller man in just as filthy a trench coat. The third was a tall woman with her hair tightly pulled up into a Victorian school-teacher's bun and clothes that looked like they came from the same era, and the fourth…

Oh, well, yes, it all made sense now.

Aziraphale blinked twice as he saw Crowley hovering at the back of the odd group, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else, a frown on his face. He looked up and met Aziraphale's gaze behind his sunglasses, both somehow looking apologetic and conveying a warning at the same time.

Aziraphale instantly got the picture and nodded to the two guests who were still in the store as two more unsavory figures slipped through the door behind Crowley.

"Ah…book—shop," the short demon said, taking a step up to one of the shelves, making Aziraphale's toes curl. "Very…nice?"

"Wot does it do?" the female demon asked, picking up one of the books, to which Aziraphale nearly had a conniption. She opened it and then put it on her head.

"Not that!" Crowley hissed, snatching it and putting it back onto the shelf before he leaned in and hissed. "Blend! There are humans here."

"Humans?" The other demon— _Hastur_ Aziraphale's mind supplied—looked around, and grinned unpleasantly as he caught sight of the humans still browsing the shelves.

"Please don't do anything to them," Aziraphale hissed sharply. "They have nothing to do with this…whatever this is!"

Hastur turned to him with a grin. "Very well, angel. In that case, why don't we talk in the back of the store?"

The demons had started to surround him, and Aziraphale felt their threatening demeanor. There were six, including Crowley, and though he didn't necessarily deem the red-headed demon a threat, he knew he was outnumbered. He swallowed, but there was also a good bit of annoyance surging through him as well.

It just had not been a very pleasant day so far.

But first he had to get the people out.

He turned to the shoppers and clapped his hands to get their attention. "Er, if you would, something has come up. Erm…Gas leak! Big one. Must leave the store now for your own safety…thank you, have a good day!" He ushered them out and closed and locked the door behind them, flipping the sign to CLOSED for good measure before he turned around to look at the demons who were staring at him with cruel eyes.

"Now, how exactly can I help you?" he demanded as unpleasantly as he liked. No need to preserve any politeness here.

He was instantly grabbed by the arms, and dragged toward the back of the store where he was pushed into a chair.

"No need to be rude!" Aziraphale snapped.

"Wot are your orders then, Duke Hastur?" one of the demons Aziraphale wasn't familiar with asked.

"Search the shop," Hastur said, jabbing a finger in the general direction of _around_.

Aziraphale watched as the demons began to spread out, stomping across his rugs, and rummaging through stuff. He cringed and felt righteous fury wash through him as one of the demons knocked several books off a table and they tumbled to the floor in a very compromising position.

"Do be careful, brute!" Aziraphale snapped. "Those are first editions!"

Another demon opened a trunk and peered inside before Ligur smacked him on the back of the head. "'e wouldn't be in there, now would 'e?" he demanded.

Aziraphale frowned. "Would one of you mind telling me what exactly you want here?" he demanded.

The demons ignored him. Aziraphale was trying to catch Crowley's eyes, but the red-headed demon seemed to be ignoring him completely. That only made the angel angrier.

Hastur looked like he was starting to get impatient, and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "This is going to take forever. Incompetent bastards," he growled before turning to Crowley. "Watch him, then," he grunted, jerking his chin at Aziraphale. "And don't let him escape."

"Sure thing," Crowley replied, giving a lazy salute. Hastur stomped off and starting railing at the other demons to get to work.

Aziraphale made sure none of them were within hearing distance before he leaned toward Crowley and hissed under his breath. "Crowley. Why are demons in my bookshop?"

The demon's face heated slightly and one of his hands clenched at his side. He had to know exactly what the angel was thinking. After all, he was the only demon Aziraphale knew that would know where the bookshop was. On top of that, he wasn't in hell's prison, so he must have told them of his own volition.

Which just made it all that much worse.

"I know what you're thinking, angel," Crowley hissed back. "But this wasn't me, okay?"

Aziraphale still frowned, eyes narrowed, not quite believing the demon at this point. "Well, then why exactly are there a bunch of demons ruining my shop?! I certainly didn't tell them!"

Crowley winced. "I really am sorry about this, angel, but, er, well, it wasn't me or you."

"Then who was it?"

"Gabriel."

Aziraphale felt an instant surge of terror at the same, wondering if his Arrangement with Crowley had been found out—and then promptly realized that none of that made sense, because, after all, Crowley was here. The fear faded away and turned to pure annoyance because _of course_ it would be Gabriel.

"And how did Gabriel let slip to a bunch of demons that I have a bookshop in Soho?" Aziraphale demanded, trying to keep his voice down.

"Well, he didn't exactly," Crowley replied carefully. "You see, for some reason, some of the demons have gotten it into their heads that if they take Gabriel out then Hell will have an advantage in the coming Apocalypse."

"What?" Aziraphale demanded a little loudly and Crowley promptly shushed him as Ligur rounded the corner in his search.

They've been trailing him whenever he comes to earth. One of the scouts just so happened to see him enter your bookshop and got a great idea into his head that Gabriel might come back."

Aziraphale sat back in the chair. In one way, he was relieved that his friend hadn't, in fact, betrayed him but on the other hand, he was even more annoyed than he had been earlier that day. As careful as he had been all these years, him and Crowley meeting in random places, always making sure they weren't being followed, Gabriel simply ruins it by waltzing into his shop like a buffoon, not even realizing he had a demon following him. It was really quite infuriating.

Before he could say anything else, though, Hastur came back around the corner. Crowley called to him, "Find anything yet?"

Hastur sneered. "Mind your own task," he growled before he went further into the shop. Aziraphale nearly got up when he heard something crash.

"Sorry," Crowley cringed.

Aziraphale _hmphed_ and sank back into the chair. "So, what do we do about this?" he demanded. "It's not like Gabriel is going to be coming by any time soon, at least as far as I know."

Crowley sighed. "Well, then I guess you're just going to have to get used to playing bait."

"Really, Crowley," Aziraphale growled.

The demon glanced at him and slid his glasses down his nose. "Would you just trust me for a moment, angel? We'll think of something."

"Well, we had better," Aziraphale muttered. "Because if they destroy my shop…"

Crowley reached up and touched the side of his nose. "Just go along with me."

Aziraphale was startled slightly when Crowley suddenly raised his voice and called. "And just what do you mean by that, you over-righteous feather duster?"

Aziraphale blinked but instantly caught on. "Oh, please, you know well enough what I mean. After all, remember that time I thwarted you in France? Couldn't keep _me_ in the Bastille!"

"Humph! And what about that time I converted a whole village to witchcraft?"

"And I promptly shut that operation down," Aziraphale reminded. "And Greenville was saved!"

"Greencastle, you idiot!" Crowley snipped.

"Er, well, yes—still saved!"

The female demon stormed around the corner. "What is going on here, Crowley?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing, Dagon, just having a bit of an argument with an old enemy," Crowley said.

Dagon glowered at the angel. "And you, have anything to say about the archangel Gabriel?"

"Oh, not really," Aziraphale replied.

Ligur came over too. "I bet he uses this place to store weapons."

"Ha! I'll bet!" Crowley said. "Just like that pastry shop you had in Poland, angel!"

"That was not at all what the pastry shop was! And it wasn't a pastry shop, it was a cobbler!" Aziraphale snapped.

"Was not, would have remembered shoes," Crowley retorted.

"That was Berlin!"

Dagon looked confused. "I thought your report said that pastry shop was in Paris…"

Crowley and Aziraphale both stopped, looking at the demon, then happily went back to arguing about their past 'battles' with increasingly mis-remembered information, completely confusing all the demons in the shop, especially Dagon who had read all the files.

Finally, Hastur stormed over. "Enough!" he snapped. "You're supposed to be watching him, not having a conversation."

"Hastur, don't you think we should look for hidden heavenly weapons?" Ligur asked.

Hastur nodded. "A good idea, Ligur. I'll bet that Gabriel has used this place to stash all kinds of things."

Crowley and Aziraphale shared a look and an imperceptible nod. The show was on now.

Crowley pointed to a cabinet at the back of the room. "I would bet that that would be a good place to hide weapons. Don't you think so, Hastur?"

The Duke of Hell grunted. "Yeah…check it out."

Ligur and another demon went to open the cabinet.

It wouldn't budge.

"It's stuck," Ligur said, tugging.

"It's probably locked, you idiot," Dagon said as she pushed the others out of the way and looked for a keyhole. There obviously wasn't one. A look on confusion spread across her face as she reached out and grabbed the knobs, tugging. After nearly a minute of her putting her back into it, the cabinet still hadn't opened.

"Oh, let me try it!" Hastur growled, stepping forward and grabbed both knobs, practically leaning backwards as he strained to get the cabinet open.

He lost his grip and staggered backwards, causing Crowley and Aziraphale to both have to quickly hide smirks as he spun around to face the angel.

"You're hiding something in there, aren't you?!" he demanded, jabbing his finger at the cabinet.

"I am not!" Aziraphale protested indignantly.

Hastur clenched his fists and got into Aziraphale's face, assaulting the angel with his horrible smell. "If you're lying…"

"I'm not," Aziraphale said again.

Hastur growled. "Fine then." He grabbed Aziraphale roughly by the front of his waistcoat and yanked him out of the chair. " _You_ open it!"

Aziraphale gave a rather put-upon sigh and tugged his waistcoat down again. "Very well."

He walked over to the cabinet. "Excuse me," he snipped at the demons still hovering around it and reached for the knobs.

He paused slightly for effect as he felt the demons all hold their breaths, then swung the cabinet open without any difficulty.

The demons all peered inside.

"See?" Aziraphale told them. "Nothing but wine in here."

The demons inspected it, and found that he was correct. The cabinet only contained bottles of very rare and expensive wine.

Hastur growled and grabbed Aziraphale again, slamming his back against the cabinet which shut loudly, the bottles clattering inside.

"Enough of your cheeky attitude, angel," Hastur growled. "Where is Gabriel?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Aziraphale demanded. "Gabriel only comes when I need to report to him."

"You expect me to believe that?" Hastur demanded.

"Well, no, not really, but it would be nice if you had a bit more of an open mind," Aziraphale told him.

Hastur growled and slammed the angel back against the cabinet again, making Aziraphale wince.

"Then maybe you'd be willing to tell us when he's planning to show up again."

"I dare say I wouldn't," Aziraphale replied. "And I don't exactly know anyway."

Hastur spun him around and shoved him back into the chair. "Then maybe we can persuade you a little?"

Two other demons came forward, and roughed Aziraphale up a bit. Aziraphale noticed Crowley looking tense, but really hoped he wouldn't try anything. The last thing they needed right now was for them to find out about the Arrangement.

"Ready to talk yet, angel?" Hastur demanded.

Aziraphale looked up, carefully dabbing a split lip. "My answer still stands," he replied.

Hastur growled and pulled out a knife. He reached out and grabbed Aziraphale's hair, yanking his head back and placing the knife against his cheek, just under his eye. "I'd talk if you know what's good for you," he growled.

The knife began to heat and Aziraphale glanced down to see the blade glowing hot. It started to burn into his skin and he wriggled helplessly, trying to keep a cry from bubbling up.

A book suddenly fell from a shelf and hit Hastur square on the head. He shot up with a shout of anger, pulling the knife away from a grateful Aziraphale's cheek.

"Who did that?!" he demanded furiously.

The demons all shook their heads, Crowley looking far too innocent. Hastur turned back to Aziraphale and hit him in the stomach. The angel doubled over with a gasp.

"That's it," the Duke of Hell growled. "I'm done with this. Tell us where Gabriel is now, or you'll discover the meaning of Hell!"

Aziraphale thought quickly. Surely there had to be some way to get out of this…

He did not expect Gabriel to simply walk into the shop.

Again, he wanted to reiterate how idiotic he found the archangel to be sometimes.

All the demons stared in awe.

"Just as I suspected," Gabriel said darkly. "I sensed a huge demonic presence somewhere in Soho."

"Good, you're finally here," Aziraphale said, playing it off as if this had been planned the whole time. "I was keeping them busy until you showed up."

Gabriel frowned slightly, but thankfully didn't refute it. Several more angels came into the shop and the demons, Hastur included, all looked like they were about to wet themselves. Crowley, as it happened, was hiding behind all the others, obviously not wanting to chance getting caught in the crossfire of whatever happened next.

Which happened to be not much of anything.

"Well then?" Aziraphale told Hastur. "You all wanted Gabriel. He's here. Happy now, are you?"

The demons were decidedly not happy. They, in fact, began to shrink into the floor on their way back to Hell.

"Get them!" Gabriel demanded and the other angels rushed forward, but the demons retreated faster and were soon gone completely. Aziraphale breathed a small sigh of relief. Not that he wouldn't have enjoyed seeing Hastur and the others get some Heavenly wrath, but he certainly didn't want Crowley caught in the crossfire.

He stood up stiffly, his beating making his body ache as he turned to Gabriel.

"You need to be more careful," he said. "They told me they have a plot to kill you before the apocalypse," Aziraphale told the archangel.

Gabriel looked surprised as did the other angels. "Do they really? Well now, that is something."

Aziraphale pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yes, perhaps you should refrain from coming here for a while."

The archangel blinked and then nodded. "You're absolutely right, Aziraphale. Well…good job keeping them busy. I trust you didn't let slip any important information?" He eyed Aziraphale's injuries.

The angel narrowed his eyes. "No. I did not."

Gabriel nodded. "Good then. Well, I suppose we should be getting out of here."

"Indeed, sir," one of the angels said. "If your life is in danger, you should be staying away from Earth."

"Yes, indeed," Gabriel said, sounding relieved. "Er, Aziraphale. I expect you to send in your report by the end of the week then. I'm sure you'll be up for another commendation because of this."

"I am honored," Aziraphale muttered, the other angels completely missing the sarcasm as they promptly got out of there.

Aziraphale sighed and went to make himself a cup of tea. He really just wanted this day to be over.

He was surprised when Crowley knocked on his door later.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, quickly letting the demon in.

Crowley shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just making sure you didn't get in trouble or anything."

Aziraphale snorted. "On the contrary. I got a commendation." He sighed as he led Crowley into the back, slumping down in his chair. "There's tea if you want it."

Crowley eyed him, then lowered his sunglasses. "Hold on, you're still injured? You're telling me all those angels left without bothering to heal you?"

Aziraphale looked down, for some reason feeling a little sheepish. "Well, they had to make sure Gabriel was safe," he said blandly.

Crowley growled something under his breath. "Well, let me help you then. Got any first aid stuff?"

Aziraphale tiredly directed him to the kit under the kitchen sink and Crowley returned, helping to clean the scabbing injuries on his face. Aziraphale winced when he got to the burn on his cheek.

"Damn Hastur," Crowley growled.

"It's not so bad," Aziraphale assured him.

"Not the point."

Aziraphale sighed again, but when Crowley finished cleaning his cuts, he stood. "It's not that I'm mad about, anyway. It's the state of my poor bookshop."

"I'm sorry, angel," Crowley told him, sounding genuinely sincere.

Aziraphale bent to start picking up a stack of books. "I don't think anything has been damaged beyond repair. It's the principle of the thing that annoys me."

Crowley bent to help. "Yeah, well, hopefully now Gabriel won't just show up out of the blue anymore."

Aziraphale smiled. "That is true. I'm sure I'll have quite a bit of time before he comes again."

"One silver lining," Crowley quipped.

"Indeed," Aziraphale said. Perhaps this hadn't been a completely terrible day after all.

And he also knew he had a good friend in Crowley, so perhaps they really had won this time around.

He just really hoped he wouldn't have to sell any more books any time soon.


End file.
